Since yesterday morning was a holiday, P got up with Caroline and let me sleep in. Eventually Caroline came running in to wake me up and inform me that we were almost out of eggs and she needed a new jump rope. I’m not sure how those things are related, but I’ve learned it’s better not to ask.
She’d already dressed herself like a bag lady for the day and ran outside to jump rope while I sat at the kitchen island watching her through the window while I tried to wake up. But then she got mad at me because I wasn’t giving her my full, undivided attention and marched back into the house to let me know she wanted me to give her a thumbs up through the window every time she completed a successful jump roping rotation.
Why, yes, she is an only child. Thanks for asking.
P decided he was going to head down to the ranch. Originally, Caroline had no interest in going but once she noticed that he loaded the dogs in the truck, she was suddenly all in. I’m not sure why the dogs were the selling point, but I think part of it is because she loves to come home and report how much cow poop Scout rolled in while they were there. Which, obviously, FASCINATING.
(Totally off topic, but I just looked up and P was making funny faces at me. I asked him what he was doing and he said imitating my blogging face. I was unaware that I had a blogging face, but I’m so glad he let me know because now I won’t be self-conscious about it AT ALL. Maybe someone should just mind his own business and go back to watching this episode of American Pickers.)
(By the way, when they find old stuff on American Pickers he thinks it’s super cool. But yet he doesn’t appreciate that his wife is his very own American picker. How else could I have scored that bird cage and the old leather suitcase?)
Anyway, I found myself all alone for the day with no real agenda. I debated using the time productively and going to HEB since we’re out of everything, but did I mention my tendency to procrastinate as of late? And that by as of late, I mean since I was born?
I ended up driving to Academy (sports and outdoors!) because P needed new work shirts and I decided that Caroline needed one of those beaded jump ropes like we used during P.E. in elementary school. Remember those? The ones that would occasionally leave a big welt on your leg if you made a false move while doing some double dutch?
While I was checking out at Academy, the cashier told me she’d lost fifty pounds by jumping rope. She said jumping rope for ten minutes is the equivalent of running for forty-five minutes. She totally had me with the whole ten minute workout part of that sentence, but I was a little concerned about the part that involved jumping rope because that sounded hard.
But TEN MINUTES. A TEN MINUTE WORKOUT. Take that, Jillian Michaels and your twenty-one minutes of Shred torture.
I came home, opened the jump rope and managed to jump three times consecutively before I nearly knocked myself out with the beaded jump rope.
So it looks like I’m stuck with Jillian.
Speaking of pain, how about Renee Walker just flat sawing that guy’s hand off on 24 last night? I knew as soon as we saw her in the elevator that she’d been drinking some crazy juice. It was in her eyes and I always recognize the crazy eye thanks to years of watching The Bachelor. It’s a gift really.
And when she told Chloe that she’d been working security somewhere, this was all I could picture.
It’s no wonder she’d rather infiltrate the Russian mob.